


Once Upon a Time

by emungere



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-14
Updated: 2005-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 11:23:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2771219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emungere/pseuds/emungere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, Yohji was very, very drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time, Yohji was very, very drunk.

It wasn't an unusual occurrence, as such, but tonight was bad. Or good. Bad because he'd had to be poured into a taxi by his date, good because he felt _good_. Everything was pretty and swimmy and the rain made little rainbows around the streetlights

He got out of the taxi a block away because he decided it would be nice to walk. Or actually, because he'd thought that the defunct adult bookstore was in fact the flower shop

But his key hadn't fit, so obviously he'd been wrong.

They looked _very_ similar though. Very. What with the...glassiness of the windows and... Yeah. He kept walking.

A block later, he was pretty wet but not minding it too much. The rain was cold, but he was awfully hot, so that was okay.

Yeah, he thought, grinning. Really fucking hot, and more so in these pants. He looked good in suede.

Dammit, the suede was getting wet. That was no good. He jogged the last few steps and collapsed against the metal security screen. Dumb, dumb, dumb. Should have come around the back. He should move. But the world was spinning in an entertaining way, and he was too busy watching it to make his legs work.

He banged on the metal and yelled. "Hey! My pants're getting wet! Lemme in!"

He banged for a while longer, but he'd pretty much given up by the time he heard someone moving inside. His hair was wet and dripping in his face and his shirt was soaked and clinging to his skin. He was starting to feel chilly.

The metal screen abruptly disappeared and he fell backwards into someone's arms.

He tipped his head back and smiled. "Hi, Aya."

Aya said nothing.

"You're cute when you glare like that."

The glare deepened. Aya pulled him upright and inside and propped him against the wall.

"Is there anything to drink around here?"

"You've had enough."

Yohji thought about that and had to admit that it might be true. "Okay."

"Go to bed," Aya said.

Yohji shrugged and headed for the stairs. He should take off his pants anyway, before he stretched them.

At the top, he stopped and swayed a little. He wasn't sure he remembered which room was his. But that one was Aya's and he wasn't using it right now. That would do.

He went in and hopped around for two seconds trying to get his boots off before he fell on his ass. It was easier from that position.

Then there were the pants. He got the zipper open, but they were sticking to his skin and so damn tight, and they were hard enough to get off when they were dry. He peeled off his shirt instead.

He was leaning against the side of the bed when Aya came in.

"Get the hell out of my room."

"Ayaaaa. I can't get my pants off. Help."

Aya stared at him, turned, and walked back toward the door.

"Aya, wait! Please? Come on, they're really right. And they're so wet and sticky, and I'm hot." he thought he might be whining a little, but surely he was entitled. Stuck in his pants, for God's sake.

"Please Aya? Please, please, please?"

That seemed to be working. Huh. If he'd known begging would get him his way with Aya, he would have tried it sooner.

"Please?"

"Shut. Up."

But Aya still closed the door and walked back towards him. He went down on one knee beside Yohji, looking surly and sexy with rumpled pajamas and equally rumpled hair.

Yohji lifted his hips helpfully. "If you can just pull a little..."

Aya closed his eyes briefly, but his hands gripped Yohji's pants and tugged. They came off slowly, inch by inch, until Aya had eased them down to his thighs.

"Oh, god," Yohji groaned. "Wow, does that ever feel better. Thanks, man."

He struggled the rest of the way out of them and spread his legs. He was still warm, but not too warm. The air felt good on his skin and the rug felt good on the backs of his legs. Aya's hand felt good on his thigh. What?

"Are you going now?" Aya asked, giving no indication that he was stroking Yohji's thigh just above the knee. Yohji had to look down to be sure he wasn't imagining it.

No, that was definitely Aya's hand. Strong, callused, cool against his skin.

It felt really nice. He didn't want to leave. If Aya could just keep doing that all night, it would be fine.

Maybe if he didn't answer yet, Aya would keep going. So he'd have to talk about something else. "Hey, Aya, ever had sex on a beach?

The hand stopped moving. Shit. He reached down and nudged it and it started back up again, roaming further up and down.

Aya's eyes looked a little glassy, but that might be just because Yohji's eyes were no doubt a lot glassy. Did that make sense? He wasn't sure.

Maybe Aya was just tired. And that had to be an uncomfortable position. Yohji tugged at his sleeve until Aya was sitting next to him.

"So have you? You didn't answer?"

"Ah. No. Not on a beach."

"It's a really good drink. I had a lot of them tonight. A _lot_ a lot. You should try it sometime."

"Son of a bitch," Aya muttered under his breath. "Son of a _bitch._ "

Yohji frowned. "Are you insulting me again? It's not nice to make fun of drunks, Aya. Didn't your mother teach you manners?"

"Yohji."

"What?"

"Shut up."

He turned his head to argue and Aya kissed him. A lot. A _lot_ a lot. With _tongue_.

"I'm not really gay," Yohji muttered, but he thought he might have been less than convincing since he was climbing into Aya's lap as he said it.

Aya didn't reply, but since he was running his hands up and down Yohji's back now and sucking his neck, that was okay. He was probably a little distracted.

Yohji was prepared to be magnanimous.

But then Aya was pushing him back and all his magnanimosisisity flew right out the goddamn window because what the hell was the idea?

"Aya! What the hell's the idea?"

"You're drunk, Yohji," Aya panted.

"Well, duh."

"You're...really _fucking_ drunk."

Wow. Aya didn't swear. Like, ever.

But still. "I know, Aya. I was there when it was happening."

"You're really fucking drunk, and I'm taking advantage of you."

"Oh." he thought about that. "You are? Really?"

Aya nodded. "Really. You should leave."

He got the feeling that this was Aya being magnananaimiman... Dammit. Aya being noble and self-sacrificing like he always was, and Yohji hated that.

Besides, he'd really liked it when Aya kissed him.

He slung both arms around Aya's neck and fluttered his lashes the way girls in the shop always did at him. "Ayaaaa..."

"What?" Wary, suspicious.

"Won't you please keep taking advantage of me?" He pressed kisses to Aya's temple, cheek, corner of his mouth. "Please?"

"Yohji..."

"Please, Aya?" More fluttering. "Please? Do terrible," kiss, "terrible," kiss, "things to me? I'm so drunk I probably couldn't stop you even if I wanted to, but I don't want to, I promise, so please?"

Aya started to get up, and Yohji clung hard to his neck, determined not to be dumped on the floor, but that, apparently, was not the plan. Aya got both hands under his ass and lifted him up.

In a rush of gravity that made Yohji's head spin even more, they fell back onto the bed. Yohji closed his eyes because the spinning was getting to be a bit much, but he opened them when he felt Aya's hands on his face.

Aya was staring at him.

"Yohji."

"Huh?"

Aya was quiet for a long time, and Yohji's eyes started to slide shut. He was getting sleepy all of a sudden. All that sex on a beach really took it out of a guy.

In the end, Aya didn't say anything. Just pulled him close and kissed him deeply, lips sliding against his, the sounds they both made filling the quiet room. Aya's intensity was as apparent in this as in everything else, hard to miss, even in Yohji's state.

"Do that again," Yohji said when they parted, but his words were slurring, and he couldn't keep his eyes open.

Aya pulled him down until they lay facing each other and did it again. And again. One hand stroked through Yohji's hair.

"This's nice," Yohji said.

"Nice," Aya agreed. "We'll see how you feel about it tomorrow."

"'Bout wha?"

"Waking up naked in my bed."

Yohji smiled. "That sounds nice, too. I should get this drunk more often."

Silence. Kisses, until he was too tired even for that. He snuggled into Aya's body, head tucked Aya's chin.

"Hey, Aya?"

"Yes?"

"Hang my pants up for me, 'kay? I don't want 'em to get all messed up. The drycleaners around here suck at leather." He yawned and let his eyes close for good.


	2. Twice the Morning After

Yohji woke without a hangover, despite all the Sexes on the Beach he'd had last night. Sex on the Beaches? Sex on the Beach, he decided. You didn't have to pluralize sex, after all, not matter how much you had. If you were going to name a drink after sex, it should work the same way.

He woke without a hangover, because that was his special talent, along with his legendary ability to find a condom _anywhere_. If Tokyo's club scene had a superhero, he was it. Or maybe more like a patron saint, raining down contraceptives like manna from heaven. 

He yawned and sat up, rubbing his eyes and smearing the tiny bit of eyeliner he'd worn last night. Should've washed his face before he went to bed, but he must've been too drunk. At least he'd managed to get his clothes off and get back to his own...room...

Or not.

Mostly not, since this was, in fact, Aya's room. And Aya's bed. He was naked in Aya's bed.

There were his pants, folded and hung neatly over a chair with his shirt. His shoes were lined up under the chair. His sunglasses sat on Aya's desk.

Had he _done it_ with Aya last night? There was a large, dark hole in his memory where the answer to this question should be. His first instinct was to panic, but really, if Aya wanted to kill him, he could've done it while he was still asleep.

Unless he just didn't want to get blood on his bed.

Yohji gathered his clothes and streaked across to his room. Obviously, the best thing to do was pretend nothing had happened. Fortunately, that was also a talent of his.

***

Talent or no, Aya was making it damn difficult to pretend nothing had happened. He was silent as usual, prickly as usual, cold as usual...but weren't his jeans hanging lower that usual? Surely his shirt was a little shorter, so that when he bent over, Yohji could see a line of bare skin between his waistband and his shirt. And Aya was bending over a lot today.

There was only so much a man could take. Just before the after-school rush, Yohji grabbed Aya's arm and dragged him into the back room.

"What the hell happened last night?"

Aya looked at him, head tilted very slightly to one side. "You don't remember?"

"If I remembered, would I be asking?"

"What if I told you that you staggered into my room at two in the morning and begged me to fuck you?"

Yohji stared. "Did I?"

"No."

"Bastard."

Aya shrugged. "If you can't remember, perhaps it's better you don't know."

"...You didn't fuck me. My ass feels fine."

"Maybe you fucked me."

"Aya! Will you just fucking tell me?"

Aya looked at him a moment longer. Then he left the room and closed the door behind him.

Yohji kicked the table leg and swore.

***

It was night time again. Obviously, the proper thing to do was to go out and get A) ragingly drunk again and B) laid. Not by Aya.

Yohji found himself lacking a certain enthusiasm for both A and B. Bits of last night had come back to him throughout the day. He remembered asking Aya to take his pants off. He remembered clinging to Aya's neck like a limpet, or a monkey, or something that clung on and didn't let go except when hit with a blunt object. He remembered Aya kissing him.

He remembered kissing Aya.

He also remembered saying he wasn't gay, which was, in fact, true. In the strictest sense. Not in the not-ever-sleeping-with-guys sense, admittedly, but still. It wasn't like he'd ever had a _relationship_ with a guy. Or even wanted to. Because that would be, you know, weird. Right?

Someone knocked on his door.

"It's open," he called.

Aya slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. He leaned against it, hips canted out. He was wearing jeans Yohji had never seen before, jeans which had worn spots in places that were positively fascinating.

Yohji stared. Aya said nothing.

Yohji cleared his throat. "So," he said. It came out sounding significantly less squeaky than he'd thought it might. Excellent.

Aya wasn't wearing a _shirt_. At all. Of any kind. That just wasn't _fair_.

"How's your memory?" Aya asked.

In that deep fucking sexy voice, Goddammit, really not fair.

Yohji cleared his throat, intending to say something about a clearer head and possibly extend an invitation to dinner, by which, obviously, he meant _sex_ , and surely Aya would see that.

What he actually said was, "Naked in your bed. Um."

Aya smiled slightly and didn't look at all homicidal.

Encouraged, Yohji asked, "Wanna be naked in mine?"

It was the worst come-on line in history, but that didn't seem to matter.

Aya unzipped his jeans. They turned out to be the only article of clothing he was wearing.

"Um," Yohji said again. It didn't count as drooling if it didn't actually leak out, right?

Aya walked over to him, close, very close, so close as to prompt the use of a better word than just 'close.' One that expressed Aya's...closeness more accurately. Only he couldn't think of one because Aya was licking delicately around the rim of his ear.

"What if I want to be naked in you?" Aya asked quietly.

It was possibly the second worst line in history, and Yohji mumbled something to that effect.

"That's not stopping you from humping my leg," Aya pointed out.

"...Fair enough."

"Is that a yes?"

"Did you really think I'd say no?"

Aya pulled back to look at him. "The thought occurred to me."

Yohji placed his hands at Aya's waist and leaned in to kiss him, hands sliding upward over his ribs, around to his back, hooked over his shoulders to hold him there, more-than-close.

By the time he found wits and breath enough to actually say, "Yes," Aya had him down on the bed, pressed into the mattress with the weight of his body.

"So we didn't," Yohji said. "Last night. Right?"

"I thought we'd discussed this."

"What if I _had_ staggered into your room and begged you to fuck me?"

Aya sighed. "You would have passed out before we did anything more than kiss. Which is exactly what happened."

"Ah. Thanks for hanging my pants up. It's hard to get the wrinkles out, and the cleaners around here don't know how to treat suede at all."

"So you said."

"And they really--"

"Yohji."

"Huh?"

"Shut up now."

Aya cupped the back of his head with one hand and brought their lips together slowly, just brushing across them at first. Then with more pressure and the wet heat of Aya's tongue pressing forward into his mouth.

Yohji closed his eyes and ran his hands down Aya's back to rest on his ass, under his jeans. Firm, smooth skin, a little cool in the air conditioning. He squeezed with both hands, and Aya's hips ground down against his. He gasped into Aya's mouth and pushed up reflexively. He could feel Aya's smile against his lips.

"That's," he heard himself say. And, "Yeah." And, "You could..."

Aya was actually laughing, almost inaudibly. "I could?"

"Fuck me?"

Aya pushed his hips down again, naked cock rubbing over the front of Yohji's jeans. Naked and _hard_. Jesus.

"Do you have what we need?" Aya asked.

Need? Besides Aya's cock, which was, as previously stated _naked and hard_ , what could they possibly--oh, yeah.

He fumbled under the side of the bed for condoms and lube, feeling as drunk as he had last night under the influence of actual alcohol (lots), rather than (one single) Aya Fujimiya. Mission finally complete, he handed over lube and condoms. They were glow in the dark, but he wasn't letting Aya turn the lights off. Maybe next time.

Aya raised an eyebrow at them, but made no comment. Instead, he said, "Get your pants off."

Yohji figured that was the Aya version of romance. He got his pants off.

"Hands and knees."

Yohji assumed the position, expecting it to be rough. That was fine. He could handle rough.

He was less sure he could handle the slow, gentle press of slick fingers inside him, small kisses dropped on his lower back, the carefully steadying hand on his side. Aya's quiet assurance and reassurance, and the two fingers twisting into him just right made his muscles weak, made him lean forward and down, face hidden in his crossed arms. It wasn't supposed to be this good.

When Aya finally replaced his fingers with his cock, all in one easy slide, Yohji couldn't help moaning into the sheets. Aya held his hips firmly, rocked into him, obviously had more experience than Yohji had thought because he hit the angle just right every time, and God, it was just--good. Aya's breath on his skin, Aya's blunt nails scratching lightly. More than good.

His hands curled to fists in the sheets, faint sweat sticking cotton to his chest and legs. He wanted to move more than the slight motion of his hips, rolling back into Aya's easy thrusts, wanted to touch himself, but if he did, that would be it. He didn't want it to end so soon.

Aya kissed his back, lips and tongue tracing the line of his spine, teeth scraping gently back down over his skin. Yohji whimpered.

Aya's hand closed around his cock and Aya thrust hard into him, free hand spread wide on his back, holding him steady. Yohji lost count after three strokes and came some indeterminate time later, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek and still making more noise than he'd intended.

Aya was perfectly silent when he came seconds later, but Yohji could feel him shaking, feel his breath coming harder, the sudden tenseness in his body.

Aya's tenseness never relaxed, even as Yohji felt his own knees slide out from under him until he lay, flat and panting, on the bed.

"Wow," he said. It wasn't the coolest comment he could've made, but after last night, trying to convince Aya he was cool in any way whatsoever was probably a lost cause.

Aya grunted quietly and pulled out, reaching for the box of tissues. He cleaned up quickly, not looking at Yohji.

It was enough of a warning that Yohji was prepared when he tried to get up and leave. That made it easy enough to catch his arm and pull him back. An easy roll left Aya pinned under him, glaring.

The glare seemed less intimidating now. Yohji leaned in and kissed Aya's nose, and the glare vanished entirely.

"You don't have to run off, you know."

"Why would I stay?"

Yohji suddenly had a great many answers to that, all lined up in his head and waiting to get out. He suspected Aya wouldn't appreciate any of them. At least, not yet.

Instead, he said, "Because if you wait a little while, we could do it again?"

Aya stayed. He even took his pants off. Later, there was glow in the dark body paint.


End file.
